


Odio e Orgoglio

by YdrittE



Series: Relentless and Chosen [2]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coercion, Discussions of sex work, Excella Lives AU, F/M, Female-On-Male Rape, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Touching, Oral Fixation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sex, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 14:31:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20322457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YdrittE/pseuds/YdrittE
Summary: Excella was being serious about figuring out a price for his body.





	Odio e Orgoglio

**Author's Note:**

> And instead of the next part of the story, I’m doing THIS, because going in any sort of chronological order is highly overrated and I like these little one-shots.

He hadn’t thought Excella would actually make good on her promise of letting him go once his debt had been settled. He had expected her to never speak of the matter again and keep him locked up in whatever safe house seemed the most convenient until… until what? Until either of them died? That seemed a rather unlikely event, considering their extensive exposure to bioengineered viruses and the visible effects that had brought forth so far. But it was easier to think of an ‘until’, however vague it may be. It was still a thousand times better than acknowledging there might not be an end to it.

So when Excella sat him down at the large dining table, handed him a few sheets of paper and a pen, and told him they were going to put a price to his body, Wesker was admittedly rather startled. Half because he had expected her to never bring up the topic again after his first night awake at the house, and half because of her wording.

And it had become clear pretty quickly that that was half the reason Excella was doing it in the first place. She had opened tamely, had suggested they base the price on existing rates and statistics instead of picking the highest number they could think of and going with that, had smiled at him and asked ever-so-sweetly if that approach sounded alright to him.

Wesker had stared at her and nodded. There was no reasonable argument against it that he could come up with, and at least if there was a price there would be a time when the price was paid. It meant finiteness. And eventually, it would mean being rid of her presence and her touches and… everything else.

But then she opened the first folder to push it over in his direction, dozens of pages finely printed with numbers, dates and names, and answered his confused gaze with another devious smile. “This is the business ledger of the most expensive brothel in the country. I thought it would only be fair to give you the benefit of the doubt and judge your worth by the finest Italy has to offer,” she explained.

He looked at her and then back at the folder. “So what does this tell us?” he asked.

“On its own? Not much. But when paired with _this_…” She produced another folder and put it down next to the first one. “…it opens up a whole new layer of possibilities.”

Wesker reached out to flip through the pages – and froze. A face was staring up at him, an unfamiliar young woman with dark hair and piercing eyes. Next to the picture was listed what appeared to be all the relevant information on her, name and age and height and how many languages she spoke and what kinds of different sex acts she offered to her customers. He turned over the page and was greeted with another face, and another, and another.

“These are the employees,” Excella told him patiently. “We are going to see how their appearance and abilities affect their rates, and apply that to you.”

The pages blurred before his eyes, the faces turning into unrecognisable smudges of colour. His heartbeat was loud in his ears. Wesker wasn’t even entirely sure what had made him so upset. This was a good thing, after all. This meant Excella would let him go eventually. It meant he’d be rid of her at some point. All he needed to do was pay attention and drive the price as high as humanly possible.

Excella waited while he took a few deep, shuddering breaths to calm himself. When she deemed him ready, she nodded briskly and pulled the folder with the profiles back over to where she was sitting. “Alright. Then let’s start with the easiest part – male sex workers’ prices compared to their female counterparts. This will involve a bit of math. But we’re not superior creatures for nothing, are we?”

The next hour or so was spent systematically going through all of Wesker’s physical features, analysing the rates and profiles to see how much the employees possessing those features made compared to those that didn’t, and how much of a difference it was. Variations in price depending on age, nationality, weight, height… the list seemed endless. It just kept going, numbers over numbers. How the establishment had even allowed Excella to get her hands on all this information was beyond Wesker. And if he was quite honest, he didn’t really _want_ to know, either.

At some point during the calculations – Wesker wasn’t sure when, it might have been when they were discussing his age and whether or not the fact that he looked younger than he was due to the virus hindering cell deterioration should affect the price – Excella had gotten up from her spot, had poured herself a glass of wine and then sauntered over to where he was sitting just a bit too casually. The touch of her hand on his shoulder had him freeze in place instantly. Her thumb rubbed slow circles over his too-tense muscles while she leaned over and pretended to read through the numbers he’d noted down.

She made a thoughtful noise low in her throat and took a sip of her drink. “You know, the difference isn’t that big,” she murmured. “I suppose we could neglect it, couldn’t we? So much arguing over such a small amount of money…”

“Absolutely not.” Wesker’s voice sounded steadier than he felt, but he knew she could feel the subtle trembling of his body. There was no way to fool her when she was this close. “You brought it up, so we’re taking it into account.”

“If you say so.” Her breath tickled his skin, raising the fine hairs on the back of his neck. “That adds about point-five percent to the rate we’re currently at. Sound good to you?”

Her fingers slipped under the collar of his shirt. Wesker forgot to breathe.

“Albert? Does point-five sound good to you?” Her tone was one of gentle concern. He couldn’t see her face from where he was sitting, and refused to turn his head, but something told him she was probably smiling. She knew exactly what she was doing to him.

He forced the air back into his lungs and resisted the urge to bat away her hand. “Sounds good.” There was no hiding the strain in his voice.

“Alright. Then let’s move on.”

Her fingertips brushed his collar bone, ever-so-lightly made their way up to his throat. No pressure, just the warmth of her grip and the lingering threat.

“The profiles don’t mention any of them having red eyes, so I suppose we’ll have to go off of your original eye colour instead. What was it again? I’m sure you’ve told me before.”

He hadn’t. Most certainly not. Besides…

“Red eyes are unusual. Exotic. That should be worth more than_ normal_ eye colours, shouldn’t it?”

Excella laughed behind him. “Quite full of yourself, aren’t you? _Exotic_ eyes. How very adorable. But if it pleases you, then we’ll go up… let’s say a percent.”

“Three. At the very least.” He was racking his brain trying to remember what price they were at, if three was enough to make any sort of difference. He hoped it did.

The hand resting on his throat tightened almost imperceptibly. Wesker felt his heartbeat speed up in vague alarm, but at the same time it meant that it _did_ make a difference. If it displeased Excella, it could only benefit him.

Her voice was cold when she spoke again. “Three percent it is then. And I’ll keep your fondness for red eyes in mind from now on, Albert.”

A soft clinking noise signalled that she’d set down the glass. Which meant her other hand, the one not maintaining a loose grip around his throat, was free now. And Wesker had the distinctly uncomfortable feeling he knew where this was headed.

“What’s next?” he asked, barely more than a whisper. He didn’t want to hear the answer.

Excella hummed again – and there was the other hand, running through his hair. “Blondes,” she mumbled, picked up a strand to curl between her fingers and play with. “Blondes are always higher rated than other hair colours. You’re quite lucky in that regard.”

“How much is that worth?”

“Combined with the quality and hairstyle, I’d say a good ten percent. Which is probably too generous, but can you blame me?” A sharp tug made him cry out, more in surprise than anything. “Long enough to pull at. And so very soft. You have lovely hair, Albert. Has anyone ever told you that?”

He couldn’t remember anyone having the audacity to comment on his appearance in the last decade or so. But Excella appeared to be less interested in having her question answered, and more in resuming the path down his chest her other hand had taken earlier. Wesker remained carefully still as she started unzipping his shirt, about halfway down to his navel before leaning forward and staring at the skin she’d laid bare with open hunger.

“The rest of your body is quite hairless. That, too, is worth more money,” she told him, her touches trailing lower and lower and stopping just above the waistband of his trousers. “But there is one thing worth even more…”

The grip on Wesker’s throat became bruising, forcing his head back to look up at the ceiling, the wolfish grin on her face barely visible out of the corner of his eye. He felt his breaths getting shallower, quicker, and couldn’t hold back the strangled sound of distress when she touched him through the fabric and laughed next to his ear. “Size may not matter much in giving pleasure, but it’s hard to deny the… _aesthetic _appeal, shall we say. How much do you think you’re worth in that regard, Albert? Care to make a guess?”

He couldn’t answer. If he did, she would consider it an invitation. He needed a price first. He needed to know it would end at some point.

So he pressed his lips together and closed his eyes tightly, and tried to ignore the heat of his face as she undid his belt. He wanted nothing more than to retreat, to keep himself still and let her do her worst and hate himself for not fighting back harder afterwards. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t let himself, tune out for this. <strike></strike>

Excella’s hand wrapped around his cock, hot pressure against the oversensitive flesh, and released her grip on his throat to finally let him breathe again, caressed his face while he gasped in air. “There you go. That’s better now.” She kissed his neck, mumbled against his skin while never letting up the pace of her movements. “You won’t answer, but your body answers for you. And it knows _so_ much better than you what it is that you actually want.”

_No. I don’t want this. I never wanted this. And you can never _make me_ want this._

But it was hard to believe that when she was groping him so shamelessly and when he was too weak to make himself not react to her touch. Because no matter how much he hated it, how it made him feeling almost physically ill, in the end he was still powerless to stop it.

Wesker barely even registered her voice when she spoke again, nearly drowned out by the hammering of his heart. “We’re not done yet, are we?” she asked, low and dangerous. “We’ve covered the appearance… but what about the abilities? What can you do, Albert? What services can you provide?”

An involuntary, high-pitched whine was her only answer. Excella chuckled. “Being loud in bed can’t possibly be your only such quality. Or maybe you just don’t _know_ what to respond with? Is your experience truly that limited?”

Rage and disgust curled deep in his stomach, and it took all his self control to not lash out and try to disembowel her in that moment. There was no knowing what she would do if he tried that again. Wesker didn’t particularly want to find out. But something in his expression must have betrayed him, and caused Excella to apruptly stop, to pull back to look at him with a strange mix of greed and wonder.

“_No_,” she breathed, her eyes wide and her pupils narrowed. “You can’t possibly be trying to tell me…”

Wesker bared his teeth at her and didn’t reply. And maybe that was all the answer she needed, because she laughed, kissed his cheek and slowly, languidly resumed her movements. Less frantic this time, which he was grateful for, even if his traitor of a body would have preferred a bit more force.

“You know only what I teach you, don’t you?” she asked, so terribly smug. “That time in the hangar, back in Kijuju… oh Albert, if only you’d said something. If I had known I was deflowering you, I would have been a bit more considerate.”

“No you_ wouldn’t_.” He couldn’t help himself, even if he was walking right into her trap, even if he was confirming her suspicion by doing so. “If you had been considerate, you would have stopped when I told you to. Or maybe you wouldn’t have tried in the first place.”

“Oh yes, how very rude of me to demand you pay me back in the way we had agreed on beforehand for funding your research. And how very rude of me to be angry at you for trying to kill me. Wherever did my manners go?” Excella’s voice was filled with biting sarcasm. “I waited for years, patiently by your side, let you play at being god, until you figured you didn’t need me anymore and tried to get rid of me, and then tried to run off without settling your debt when that didn’t work. And now you expect me to teach you how to do everything, and don’t show even the least bit of gratitude.”

She had once again stopped moving, tightening her grip around his cock to the point of discomfort. Wesker wasn’t sure if she was even aware of it, but fought to stay silent.

“And I _will_ teach you everything. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll have a sexual repertoire that will make any whore’s pale in comparison.”

Tighter and tighter, like a vice, and he couldn’t hold back the cry of pain anymore. Excella’s only response was to grip him even harder and _twist_, and Wesker screamed, writhed helplessly. The tips of her fingers moved up and down his cheeks in soft little patterns, a sharp contrast against what her other hand was doing.

“All sorts of different positions, toys, fetishes. Vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex…” she listed, her tone as nonchalant as if she was reading the phone book. “…Cunnilingus.” The hand caressing his face had stopped in its movements, two fingers resting against his lips. “Do you know how to perform cunnilingus, Albert?”

He shook his head, panic clouding his brain, trying to form words and failing miserably.

“Mmhm. I suppose I’ll have to teach you then, won’t I?” Excella pressed the two fingers harder against his lips, waited for him to take the hint and part them so they could slip inside. When he did, she chuckled and then finally let go of his cock. Wesker let out a breathless sob of relief around the digits in his mouth.

“I’ll teach you many things in the time we’ll spend together, Albert. Here’s lesson number one: The more work you put in, the faster and easier it will be to settle your debt. So it’s in your best interest to make an effort, eh?”

The fingers were pulled from his mouth and disappeared from sight, only to return soon afterwards coated in a clear, unknown substance. Once again they were pressed against his lips, and Wesker opened his mouth. It wasn’t particularly difficult to figure out what was expected of him, so he wrapped his tongue around them to lick them clean. Excella hummed in delight.

“You learn fast. Now give me your hand.”

She guided it between her legs, held it there and rocked against it lightly, and Wesker suppressed a shiver of revulsion at the feeling of slickness covering his fingers, of warm heat enveloping them as Excella had them push inside her. She sighed in contentment and rested her chin on his shoulder, mumbled against his skin. “Lesson number two: You try anything stupid while pleasuring me and I’ll make sure to break every single bone in your body individually, over and over until you pass out from the pain.”

His hand was pushed away, guided up to his lips, smearing the slickness across them until he opened his mouth again and sucked them clean. If he didn’t think about what he was doing, then the taste wouldn’t bother him.

“Lesson number three: every new way of fucking that is added to your repertoire increases your rate by ten percent.”

He gripped the armrests of the chair tighter as she slunk around on light feet to face him, stared at him for a moment with that terrible smile of hers before she climbed on top of him, straddled his lap and kissed him. She bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and lowered herself on his cock, effortlessly and eagerly, held still while he shuddered underneath her, half from pleasure and half from disgust.

This was a favourable outcome. Ten percent was a lot, more than he should have hoped for, and it would grow exponentially. If he could bring himself to learn, then he would be rid of her. He’d pay dearly for it, but he’d be rid of her. And that was what mattered.

“And finally, lesson number four.” Excella rolled her hips. “You can have anything you want, but I, and I alone, dictate the price of each request.”

There was the catch. But Wesker had been expecting it. He had never expected anything less. So he let his body go limp while she rode him, kept his face and mind blank to hide away what she was better off not knowing.

_I don’t want anything from you. I never will. And the moment my debt is paid, I’ll be gone._

If only he could make it that far.

**Author's Note:**

> Several thousand words of Excella just kind of molesting Wesker, because this is what I felt like writing and this series apparently isn’t self-indulgent enough yet.


End file.
